Page 29 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
“Pray do not speak to me unless absolutely necessary,” she said, and returned to her meal.
* * *
Seeing Percy was both a blessing and a curse. He never purposely tried to put Zachary on the sidelines, but he inevitably placed Zachary there by the sheer comparison that took place between the two men. Percy was light. He was easy and good-mannered and charming. In the space of a single afternoon and dinner, he had charmed all ladies in the household to eat out of his hand. Then, after dinner, it got worse.
Zachary had accustomed himself to never taking part in the drawing room activities. The ladies chose to sing and play and read out loud while he engaged himself with a book of his own choosing or, better still, retreated to the library. There could be no retreating to the library tonight.
“Evangeline is a most accomplished singer,” Emily said shyly.
“Is she now?” Percy glanced across at Evangeline, who glanced away coquettishly. Zachary frowned. He’d never seen her be like this before, all her charms placed to the fore, so no man could ignore them.
Even when they had been together… But considering she had no wish to even discuss it, or let him apologize, thinking about it was fruitless.
“I fear most accomplished is too great an exaggeration,” Evangeline said, “but I confess I enjoy singing.”
“Then would you sing for us?”
Zachary settled beside Percy as Evangeline took her place by the piano. It was a beautiful instrument, and the woman behind it did it no injustice. As she played and began to sing, Percy leaned in and whispered, “You could do a lot worse than her, you know.”
“For that, she would have to tolerate my company.”
Percy sighed. “Have you considered you might need to woo her?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Zachary whispered back, “that is hardly my strong suit.”
“Only because you don’t let it be.”
“When I need your advice, Percy, be certain I shall ask for it.”
“If you have no intentions toward her.” Percy turned back to Evangeline, whose voice soared above them, pure and clear and sweet. “I can see no reason why I might not pursue her.”
Zachary could think of no reason why Percy should not, either. And considering the encouragement Evangeline was offering him—and it was much encouragement to be sure, considering she had known him only for a few hours—he would be successful.
And that was fine. Perfectly fine. He would woo Emily, the sister who seemed somehow impervious to all charms and thought them aimed at her sister, and both men would have admirable wives that matched their temperaments perfectly.
After all, Percy likely wanted a lady with a little fire to her; he would not be satisfied with a meek mouse of a wife who would submit to him without question. As for him, he would be perfectly satisfied…
No, he was fooling no one—least of all himself. He would not be happy with a meek wife. He wanted a woman whose temper and strength matched his—one who would not be afraid of him. Until he had met Evangeline, he had not thought such a thing possible.
Yet Emily, with her fair hair and her calm demeanor, was also unafraid. She had not avoided his advances out of fear, but because she thought he really sought to charm Evangeline.
Evangeline paused, her last note hanging on the air like quicksilver, and for a moment he could have sworn her gaze lingered on his face before the final chord played, and she looked to his right where Percy sat.
“Bravo,” Percy said, standing and applauding. Evangeline flushed—a different sort of flush, Zachary noticed, then the one she had given when she had seen him—and accepted his hand to walk back to her seat as Emily was urged to the piano.
Zachary had never before thought Emily’s musical talent anything out of the ordinary, but that night he gave her his full attention, noting the way she bit her lip when she came to the hard passages, and the way her voice faltered as she reached some quicker sections. He failed to notice in her the same brilliance he had noted in Evangeline, but she was pleasing enough, and after she had performed two sweet country tunes, he clapped enthusiastically and approached her.
“I do not profess myself to be an expert in music,” he said, seating himself beside her, “and I daresay I do not have the niceties of taste that you might expect me to possess, but allow me to say, I thought your performance was charming.”
She squinted up at him. “Are you by any chance getting me confused with Evangeline?”
“Trust me,” he said, a trifle dryly, “there could be no chance of that.”
“She is the superior musician. If you thought my playing charming, you must have thought hers exquisite.”Surely it was not always this difficult to persuade young ladies of one’s interest.
“She may be a skilled musician,” he said, sparing her and Percy a glance, “but she lacks certain humility.”
“Oh, she has no cause to be humble,” Emily said. “Perfect pitch, you know.”
